Halo: The Religion
by Imperator Gnome
Summary: My second Fic on this site. Some people take their games a little to seriously. One shot for now.


AN: Just a note I have not quit on my main series. So enjoy.

Many years after being accepted into the religion, and the Baptism by Fire, he would finally undergo a final test. He would become a High Priest of the Holy Order of Halo under the Spartan Sect. He could feel raw emotion running through his blood as he quietly knelt and whispered a Hail Chief.

Before the formation of the Halo Covenant, a precursor to his religion, Halo had merely been entertainment. Its significance was first realized by William Gates and Thomas Wu, the first priests of what had started as a cult. After many years their cult grew to the religion it was today in the year 2125. It became a mainstream religion sporting many celebrities as well as many in the middle and lower classes. Eventually it pushed many less popular religions such as Islam, Christianity, Judism, and many others into the dustbin of history.

Society being freed of their rules soon fell into anarchy before military control was handed to the Church, now calling itself World Order of Halo. The religion evolved even further as this caused an influx of believers and people looking for a new religion. Soon the Holy Text albeit an inferior version was available to the commoners and the unbelievers, but the Heroic was kept for the Deacons and Priests and Legendary for the High Priests and Augurs.

Continuing in his prayers he recited The Keyes Prayer, struggling to keep his mind on task. Soon after his fourth repetition of The Epistles of Cortana his mind began once again to wander. Exasperated he sighed and struggled to raise himself from his kneeling stance. It had been nearly a week since he had last eaten, and he had been praying for the better part of every day that week. A quick glance through the meditation room's only window told him night was soon approaching. He had started in the morning hoping to end his fast at noon with the chili that was being served in the temples cafeteria, but now all of it would have vanished into the bellies of the others in the temple. On the long walk to the cafeteria he reminded himself to stay well clear of the restrooms for the next few days.

At the cafeteria he sat still thinking about his upcoming test. Many people the night before would slip into a coma; most never awakened. The few that did were immediately accepted into the High Priests company. They would often cite "Holy visions of from the Oracle" or "Direct communication with the Chief" as reasons, but with each person their reasons seemed to grow less believable. Some had stopped giving them altogether. It had been believed that the many religions shunted aside by Holy Order were coming back to plague them, yet the priesthood had denied even forbade such lines of inquiry.

He sat brooding over his bowl of soup before praying over the lackluster dish, and finally eating. On his way to communion, or as it was called multiplayer (after they changed the meaning of I FRAGZORED YOU NOOB) he stopped and read a bulletin regarding the upcoming "Feast of the Gravemind" reminding them that alcohol was forbidden especially after last years incident; after that they reminded the congregation that the festival was designed to remind them of the gluttony inherent in the demonic flood by eating shit loads of food. He immediately stopped and was about to pray forgiveness, but then he remembered that the angel Johnson cursed many a times.

He quietly entered the room as several monks began preparing a station for him. After seven hours, 343 kills, 21 deaths, and shouting the phrase "Thou has been fragethed" numerous times his need of communion was finally satiated. While leaving he received many compliments and words of comfort pertaining to his upcoming test. He felt a warm sensation he had learned to associate with the communion steal over his senses, and he finally felt at peace about his upcoming test.

He finally reached the bunk baring his name and said his final prayers of the day and slept.

Music screeching from a room down the hall decimated his eardrums, and tore him from the warm embrace of sleep. He furiously railed against the imbecile with the stereo in his head, and dove for his robes. Several minutes later he was breaking the land speed record sprinting towards the source of the music. He nearly tripped on his robe as he skidded to a stop, and struggled to compose himself while the music continue to screech in his ears.

_Screw it,_ he thought and stormed into the room to be met with the chorus of some unimaginably horrible music. Nay it wasn't music it was rap. When he had recovered from his initial shock he noticed several still oblivious acolytes fully immersed in the Holy Text. Only for a second did he watch as one made several skillful headshots on an Elite under the command of the Seducers. He was shocked to find them so immersed in the Text yet so oblivious to one of the key commandments of the church. _Thou shall not listen to rap while immersed in the word_ flowed through his mind as he sought a suitable punishment.

He first decided to see how deep their sin flowed and took the CD from the stereo and launched it through an open window. He immediately grabbed the second CD and proceeded to put it in the stereo and pray that this to wasn't rap. The acolytes now realized that someone was here, and wore curious expressions. Pressing play he was greeted by the chorus "You... Can't beat me I'ma Rock Star-," before he ripped it out and allowed it to follow the first through the window

Now the Acolytes were angry and were preparing to rush him when one noticed curious embroidery on the front of his robe. In the center of his chest was the symbol of the heroic proclaiming him to be a priest of the order, and on each shoulder was the face mask of the guardian angels (Spartans.) The curious thing was a griffin beautifully made resting on either side of the heroic symbol. As a friend of the person who made the robes he had been given a special set as a gift from friend to friend. It was unique throughout all of the seven reformed continents of the Halo Order.

The acolyte quickly informed his friends and they quickly snapped to attention, the name Griffin had earned much respect throughout the church. Reaching into his oversized sleeves he found one of several pockets cunningly stitched into the fabric. His hand came out with music sponsored by the Church, or at least one of the few bands that were. The acolytes remained silent as "Firefly" began to sound from their stereo; one almost let out a sigh of relief before Griffin spoke.

"Now for your punishment you shall submerge yourself in the Holy Text," he said in the deepest and hopefully holiest voice he could summon. One had already begun diving for his controller before he saw a stack of books appear in Griffins hand. "The written text which allows us to dive further into the glory of our religion," he continued. The voice which he had hoped sounded devout and religious now seemed like a humorous and frankly quite silly.

He saw the countenance of those before him fall before a spar of hope seemed to grow hidden beneath masks. He finally decided to fully close any means of escape from his punishment "I shall ask one of my brethren to make sure you are reading the text… in fact I may ask him to test you on your knowledge and devotion." With those words he saw their hope die down and watched as they tried to mask a different emotion, one decidedly more violent. Quickly deciding to defuse that emotion he said "Now I believe I've rested let us go together to communion. If you manage to impress me I believe I shall lighten your penance."

He immediately saw them smile and begin charging towards the communion room. Being more patient Griffin calmly smiled and began walking, they believed that they once more had hope, and he enjoyed disabusing people of such thoughts of facing him. He heard footsteps as the acolytes doubled back remembering that they were escorting a priest.

Several days later he had formed strong friendships with those acolytes, and they had learned their lesson. Much more importantly they had learned to enjoy the written text almost as the one they viewed daily. He had almost forgotten that this was the day of his test.

A monk quietly entered and told him that it was time for his test. As he walked down the once warm and friendly halls, the shadows seemed to reach for him, beckoning him, telling him to join the others that had accepted the darkness. Finally he began to run as the shadows seemed to grow and contort to whatever shapes his mind imagined

Finally he reached the safety of his testing room. As he leaned against the wall to catch his breath a needle plunged into his neck. He quickly fainted and robed figures entered the room. They rushed him to the infirmary and laid him in one of the beds. Hooking life support machines with startling efficiency, they swarmed around the room till one brought a very special machine. The machine was said to stimulate neural receptors to help bring people out of comas. The real purpose was much different. One monk opened a hidden compartment and inserted a disk. Clearly visible was the symbol of the Legendary. In a separate room a live feed appeared on a monitor the word progress running across the top of the screen. The monitor dedicated to that machine soon showed a picture of a cryotube and a monstrous green armored figure inside. Everything looked just like the Pillar of Autumn, but for one thing the helmet of the green armored figure had no helmet and now possessed Griffins face.


End file.
